


Simple is Complicated

by totallynotevil



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Could be read as general fiction, F/F, F/M, Multi, Older Woman/Younger Man, Pining, Polyamory Negotiations, men with lesbian kink, talking it out, wait until he's 18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallynotevil/pseuds/totallynotevil
Summary: Abigail and Sam broke up months ago.  Sam is fine with it.  This new girl Avery is hot and she's nice but not TOO nice and those muscles?  Seriously, he thinks this could be a very good thing for him.If only he could get Abigail out of his mind.This would be easier if Avery didn't keep talking about how hot Abigail is.
Relationships: Abigail/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Abigail/Sam (Stardew Valley), Sam/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Kudos: 4





	Simple is Complicated

Avery was done. 

It wasn't just the soul-crushing job and the recent break up. Both sucked skunk junk, but the real problem was her mother. She liked the fresh cookies, but she was much less interested in the opinions for all that they were offered so freely. 

When she finally opened that ancient letter from her grandfather, what she found was far from what she had been expecting.

~*~

Arriving was nice. Pelican Town was picturesque and both of the people she'd met had been friendly and helpful, but as she had begun to clear the land and plant and water, she had realized the scope of the job she had undertaken. 

"Don't do everything," she had told herself. "Vegetables and berries for now. It will be fine. You'll have enough to eat and you can worry about the rest of the farm when you can clear your way to it." The sun was getting low and she wanted to get to town and resupply. 

She needed to get to know at least some of the locals, after all. It was not the kind of place where she could survive without goodwill and cooperation. She'd need guidance and people to tell her about the weather patterns and the tides. She'd need to get honest opinions about the two farm supply stores in town and whether or not she'd be better off having seed shipped to her.

Maybe for the “exotic” things. She was going to find a way to grow romaine in this valley if it cost her soul.

When spring stretched into summer, she had three thousand square feet of useable top soil, a good start on a plastic hive, and a hot plate that she had learned to boil quinoa and red beans on. She was getting to know her nearest neighbors and the proprietors of the most useful businesses and some of their kids.

And then there was Sam. 

She was fairly sure that Sam was dating Abigail. Abigail was the only child of the owner of the seed and feed store. And whenever Sam talked to Avery, he and Abigail gave each other significant looks. They had grown up together. It was possible that it was just a close friendship, but Avery didn't think so. They had a physical comfort with each other that Avery envied and that she didn't believe came from tickle fights and games of twister from a young age. But Sam would flirt with Avery in front of Abigail.

Something was going on here.

It wasn't really an age of dating. Nobody did dinner and a show anymore, particularly in a town where there was only one restaurant. You couldn't do more than flirt. But on Thursdays when she'd gathered everything harvestable and driven it to the distribution center for weighing, she got into the habit of bringing a bathing suit. There was a stretch of beach on the way home that she found while hiking and she had always been a strong swimmer. For the second week in a row, Sam had been there. He sat on the shore and waved whenever she looked up and was gone by the time she came in. On the third week, he waited. "You're smart," he said, his cheeks red from something other than sun. "You're funny and nice and I like you."

"Sam, you're seventeen," she said, brushing sand off her ankles in an attempt to keep it off her blanket. 

"I'll be eighteen next week. Anyway, you're barely twenty five. That's not so different."

She had felt like blushing herself. "I guess you can bring it up in a week, then."

He had smiled and it had been open and delighted and she'd tried to seem stern, but he was a beautiful boy with no knowledge of how the world could be ugly outside of a little farming town. She couldn't help liking him. His mother would probably not approve, but it would be silly not to give him a chance. There weren't so many eligible young people around that she could afford to be picky if she didn't want to spend her best years with electronics. That night, though, she decided that a frank conversation with Abigail was in order. 

"Sam's a sweet kid," she said. "We grew up together. There have been, historically, some hookups."

"You obviously care about him."

"He's amazing. But he's not what I'm looking for. I'm not going to be so selfish as to keep him from looking for the forever girl when I'm not it. Don't worry. I don't poach."

"Well, that's ... different. I mean ... I'm not sure he's what I'm looking for either, but I kind of want to find out. Until we have the conversation about exclusivity, you do your thing."

She rolled her eyes. "Please. Sam and I both live with our parents. Eventually the idea of getting screwed against a silo and hoping that it being on the side away from the road will be enough to keep your dad from finding out loses its shine, you know?"

It was something Avery hadn't considered. By the standards of this town, she was in very good shape financially. Winter was coming and she had no illusions that she wouldn't be eating Top Ramen almost exclusively until the spring crops matured, but she had a house of her own and Robin had talked to her about when and how to afford a decent retrofitting. It would be nice to have a real kitchen. "Still..."

Abigail nodded and smiled. "You're sweet. He said you were."

Her stomach gave a flutter. "So when you say he's not your type?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure he'll always be a part of my life. I just ... want someone a little more ... worldly. I mean, he’s corn fed, healthy ..." her voice dropped low. "No technique."

"Technique comes with practice."

"Then do me a favor and break that boy in. If things don't work out ..."

Avery smiled sadly. "I may be from Banton, but I've only had one boyfriend. I'm painfully aware that I only know what _he_ liked. Mostly what he liked was me being naive."

"And now you're too much woman for him?"

She sighed. "Never let a boy convince you that sex is something that happens TO women. He won't be content with controlling you in the bedroom."

Abigail put a hand gently on Avery's arm. It was nice. These kids. They were too mature for their own good. She'd have to do something nice for Abigail sometime soon.

~*~

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Sam showed up on her doorstep. 

She wasn't in the house, of course, but she saw him walking up the path while she was weeding the radishes. His shoulders slumped when no one came to the door. It was nice, this complete ability to read him. He was the type that didn't see any reason to hide what he was feeling. She put two fingers to her lips and whistled sharply. He didn't spot her right away, but his head whipped around and the rest of him followed eager and bright. She waved with most of her body, her weariness forgotten, and as soon as he found her, he tripped down the stairs and jogged out to meet her. "Avery," he said. "I brought you a present!"

"You have it backward, birthday boy."

"Oh, yeah? You got me something?"

She laughed. "Sorry, no. Tea? I could make you some tea."

"Sure."

Since her arrival, she'd worried more about getting the planting done while the weather held than about setting up the little house to her liking. There were still boxes of books in one corner and clothes were mostly dropped against the far side of the bed in piles of clean and dirty and somewhere in-between. What the hell. She was a farmer and he wouldn't be expecting the Savoy. She opened all the curtains so that the sunlight streamed in and found a clean mug that she filled and put in the microwave. While it rotated, she stared at it for a few moments. This was such a bad idea. 

"I've been thinking about what you said."

She turned around. He was coloring again and he looked as nervous as determined. "Which thing that I said?"

"When you said how much you like me."

She didn't laugh, but it was an effort. "Well, you're likeable."

"True. Anyway, I've decided that I will be your boyfriend."

"That's a good idea," she said, and she stepped in close. He was leaning against the counter, but she was tall enough that she barely had to stretch to reach his lips with her own. He froze, but only for a moment and while it was true that he seemed more enthusiastic than skilled, the fire kindled in her belly and she put one arm around him and one hand on his jaw to pull him deeper in. He made a distressed noise which was followed by a pleased noise and she felt his hips stiffen which she assumed meant he was trying to resist the impulse to grind against her. She took a moment to feel fond of him. He was a departure from Darrel in so many ways, but right now she didn't want to make comparisons. They would come later, for sure, but until then, she would enjoy him as he was. She took a step back and smirked. "Didn't you say you had something for me?"

He smiled brightly and reached into his pocket. She chose to believe that he had not noticed the innuendo at all. "It's a bracelet. I made it for you." 

She was expecting knotted thread or a leather cord with a seashell on it, but when he opened his hand what was revealed was a string of tiny wooden beads each carved into the shape of a flower or a bird. "Oh, Sam! It's so beautiful!"

"What can I say?" he said. "You inspire me." He helped her fasten it around her left wrist and she held it up to the sunlight feeling a little wistful that she wouldn't be able to wear it while she worked. The closure was a little too complex to work easily, and the tiny carved wings would dig into her wrist if she brushed up against anything. Best occasions, then. She hoped that he wouldn't mind. 

The microwave beeped and she turned to the cupboard. "I have black, jasmine, and orange spice."

"Uh ... I don't actually like tea."

She rolled her eyes and walked toward the bed pulling her blouse over her head. "I suppose it will have to be sex, then."

Comparisons weren't easy to kill. He was only the second, after all, and her first departure from controlling older guy. It was refreshing to be so openly admired. He stared hungrily as she squirmed out of her jeans and sat on the bed. She held out her hand and he came to her and knelt. She pulled his face into her stomach and stroked his hair while he fumbled with the clasp of her bra eagerly. He was jumping ahead. She laughed and pulled his shirt out of his trousers so that she could look. He was unremarkable. The skin of his back was pale and he had a build for running more than heavy work, but he smiled in triumph when the clasp gave way and looked up at her in rapture as she let him scoot back while she shrugged out of the straps. 

He spent a lot of time on her breasts. It was nice. She let him do what he liked encouraging and helping him off with his trousers but for long minutes he mostly just squeezed and caressed and licked. She did her best to be encouraging, but she wrapped her legs around him and her hands moved lower until he growled and started to paw at her underwear. 

She ended up having to roll to the top and stand and at that point, she decided to stay on top. She pushed him down and pinned him while he looked at her adoringly. She eased down. He was nicely sized and she suspected he was not finished growing. As she moved, his eyes stayed fixed on her breasts with a gleam of worship. She leaned back and had just found a good angle when he came. It was hardly surprising, but she shifted again until most of her pleasure was coming from her clitoris and she kept going until she had her own moment. When her breathing was closer to normal, she smiled down at him. "Well, we'll work on it."

"What do you mean? That was amazing."

"Oh, dear."

~*~

Girl talk was a thing she probably shouldn't have indulged in. She was a former accountant, though, not a saint. "You know, Abigail, it's only considered polite for a guy to make sure you get there, too."

"Get there?"

She just didn't think it was her business. Sam was someone she was in an acknowledged relationship with and she could train him as much as he was willing to be trained, but Abigail was a young woman on the cusp of going to university and accomplishing great things. "Have you ever ... had an orgasm?"

"Uh ... probably?" 

"Fair enough. With Sam?"

"Yeah. But it was round two. It was nice."

"And do you ever ... solo?"

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Kind of, yeah." She ate another cheese fry. By now they were mostly congealed which meant that she had to pull a fry loose and then pull some cheese away from the cheese mass to go with it. "This happens sometimes when you're the first sex partner of your first sex partner. He has a good time and feels like it's mission accomplished. But since it's a lot easier for a very young man to come than it is for a woman of any age but especially an inexperienced woman to come, most people think of it as the man's job to make sure that the lady has a good time, too. It sounds to me like you were tolerating sex a lot more than you were enjoying it."

Abigail shrugged. "Most of the girls I grew up with talked like boys weren't really good for anything. Like they were mostly having sex just to keep boys happy."

"It's not the Victorian age, hon. You need to learn to communicate. I told you about my ex. He drilled into me over and over again that I needed to be more responsive if he was going to know when I was done. He was an asshole, but he did teach me not to put up with men who don't appreciate me."

"Sam isn't like that," said Abigail, angry on behalf of the friend she had trusted Avery to treat well.

"Of course he isn't. He's as good hearted as anyone I know. He just needs a little education. I told him that he was beautiful and that he and I were going to have a conversation about good manners when it comes to committed sex. I promise I was nice to him, but because I know that you're his entire history ... I mean, I don't want to overstep, but ... I don't want you to get the idea that sex is boring. Or a duty. It can be really wonderful when you expect more from your partner and reassure and encourage him. And if you ever end up with an experienced guy, make sure he respects you."

"God, Avery, I can look out for myself." She took a sip of her sprite. "But I guess I understand what you're trying to say."

"I always talk too much."

"Yes, but can you play video games?"

Abigail was vibrant and beautiful and it was hard to think she deserved better when it was evident that in everything else she was bold and direct about saying what she wanted, expected, and needed. Avery wished she'd been more like Abigail when she'd been eighteen. They shared appetizers every week or so when they ended up at the diner at the same time and she got to know her a little better bit by bit. Sam was a good boyfriend and he was improving in the sports department. She'd gently suggested that he spend more time solo learning to sustain an erection and he'd told her she was his new favorite person. There'd been a shadow in his eyes when he'd said it, though, and she hoped she wasn't being too blunt. His ego wasn't fragile and she was working hard to be diplomatic without falling back into the bad habits and non-communication that had made her previous relationship so toxic. She told herself that his next girlfriend would be grateful for her hard work some day and tried not to think too hard about what it meant that she was already consigning him to some future with someone else. 

Summer gave way to autumn and corn gave way to pumpkins and Abigail got on a bus that would take her to a train that would take her to Banton U. Avery made sure that she had a beginner's vibrator and an informative book packed discreetly in her suit case. Sam obviously missed her and Avery tried to spend more evenings with him, but he was determined that his mother would not find out about them which meant early curfews and hasty clean ups.

And damned if he wasn't developing a very nice set of skills.

But he was still unhappy.

It was under the surface. He smiled and he stretched and he helped out on the farm when it wasn't too arduous, but Avery felt like she was really getting to know him, and she could see the times when he was not really there with her.

She did everything in her power to keep the words inside, but eventually he was smiling at her and not seeing her and she was still straddling his hips and she heard herself say "It's Abigail, isn't it?"

He frowned. "Seriously?"

She covered her mouth and crumpled a little. If he was angry, he had a right to be. She put her hands on his chest and smiled sadly and tried to wait out the stiffness in his frame. "You miss her. It's absolutely understandable. I know you like me. And you're always so good to me. But she was it for you, wasn't she? You're still in love with her and you don't know why she left you."

"You're not mad?"

"What do I have to be mad about?"

"You're only half right, you know. I think about her sometimes and I don't mean to, but I love you, too. If I were with her right now, I promise that I would be thinking about you with just as much regret. She was my first and I really hoped that we'd be together forever, but sometimes your second choice is a better choice, you know?"

She dismounted and wiped both of them with tissues from the night stand and then she pushed him down by the shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes. "Do something for me." She couldn't keep him forever and wasn't really sure that she wanted to. But there was something exciting happening in her cave woman brain and she wanted to set up a fantasy for him and see if ...

Abigail had been pretty open and communicative about her own sexual tastes, after all. 

"Sure," he said.

"I want you to close your eyes and imagine something. Imagine I'm sitting on that stool in the kitchen in that plaid skirt you like. And the white blouse that I've washed so many times that it's soft like butter and mostly see through. And I'm just sitting there thinking about what to make for dinner. And watching the sunset through the window over the sink. And I'm all alone."

"Mmm."

"Can you picture it?"

"You're playing with your hair the way you always do. And humming."

"I don't play with - " She huffed and he smiled but his eyes stayed closed. "Right. And I'm by myself, so I reach up under my blouse and I scratch at that place high up on my belly just under my first rib. And the first two buttons pop free on my blouse, but I don't really care. Can you see it?"

"You go ahead and scratch that belly, Avery. I support you in that choice."

"Right. Now. Imagine that Abigail walks in and sees me. And I don't know what she's doing here, but I smile and I stretch out because I've been sitting for a while and I don't want to just spring up. So I give a good long stretch. Really reach for the rafters. And she watches me. Just looks her fill with my shirt stretched tight over my breasts and those bottom buttons just lost to chaos theory and the rest of that blouse rising up and up and up as I tip back and really take that pressure off my spine. And she takes it all in without saying a word. Just stands there and takes in the details. Thinks about what I might be wearing or not wearing under that short skirt."

"You didn't really ..."

"No, baby. It's just a fantasy."

"Your fantasy?"

"Maybe. Maybe it can be your fantasy. Maybe you can think about what might happen when I stand up. Maybe you can tell me what happens when she takes a step toward me. Just one step and then stops. And then maybe two more quick steps. Because she's not sure what to do next. Because she's not sure she's reading me right. Because she would never do that to you, but she just wants to see what happens if just ... one ... more button ... But she can't! Because I'm your girl! And she would never poach! And then what do you think might happen if I were to lean close to her. What do you think she might do if I said 'Welcome home, Abigail,' right next to her ear and if I leaned in close like I was going to give her a hug. But instead I put a hand on the side of her throat, and I run my nose from her shoulder all the way up to her ear and say 'I've missed you so much!' And she would never. But I've been working in the herb garden all afternoon. And I smell like basil and rosemary and just a hint of sweat and she's never really thought about a girl that way, but ..."

Sam swallowed and when Avery shifted just slightly to the left, she laughed. He was rock hard again, and she reached out to brush up his length, but he took hold of her wrist and held it gently away. "I'm not sure I like that game."

"What part don't you like?"

"You wouldn't really cheat on me, would you?"

"No," she admitted. "I would never cheat on you. But I really like Abigail. And you really like Abigail. And I think that Abigail really likes you. You know, there's all kinds of love in the world and all kinds of sex. I don't think it's so wrong for me to imagine it. I mean, I'm more than a little bit bisexual and I think Abigail is, too. But I admit that if you got with Abigail behind my back, it would really hurt me."

"Behind your back?"

"Right. On the other hand, how would you feel if I got with Abigail and you got to watch?"

"Oh, god."

She smiled and put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. "And chances are it will never happen, but if you want to imagine it once in a while, you would certainly not be the only one."

He rolled her over then and pulled her left leg up onto his right shoulder and she relaxed back and open and welcomed him while he lost his mind and all his control and she reveled in the fact that it was her own name that he murmured over and over again while he drove and drove and drove into her with all his youthful athleticism, but when they were both spent and sweaty and gasping, he asked her again "How serious are you?"

"It's rare. Threesomes happen, but they are usually like ... a one night stand that a couple have. What we don't want to do is ... make her feel uncomfortable. I would hate it if we did something that ... made it hard for her to look either of us in the eye. But I would love it if ... she could be a part of us. A permanent part."

"I would love that, too," he admitted, and she stroked his hair until he said "I miss her, you know?"

"I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, NaNo. That means there's a chance I'll add more chapters very quickly.
> 
> Grammar and style suggestions WELCOME.
> 
> Not my first fic, but my first Ao3 fic. Hopefully I got all the tags and whatnots right.


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